Round 3 Bert, Parlor, Sword
by Ethelfreda
Summary: MFMM Cluedo game


Bert stood in the parlor and grumbled to himself. "Now where am I going to put this thing?" Miss Fisher's instructions had been quite vague, "Oh Bert, please put this in the parlor in a place of honor, Aunt P gave it to me saying it was a relic from some ancestor or other who fought in a battle somewhere so I suppose that makes it a family heirloom." With that she was off in the Hispano and he was left holding a 5 foot long sword.

He didn't think much of it. It was dull, so it could do with a good scrub up and shine, not that it would help much. It was just plain ugly. He had no idea what she expected him to do with the bloody thing. If it was a family heirloom, it should be in a place of honor. In the pictures he'd seen of castles things like swords and shields hung over the fireplace, so he started toward the fireplace trying to imagine the sword hanging there in splendor. No, that wouldn't do, one of Miss Fisher's favorite paintings hung there, although he couldn't see what all the fuss was about; it didn't look like much of anything to him.

He held the sword against every vertical surface in the room, but could not, for the life of him, figure out a place to put the darned thing. Besides that, it was getting heavy. Finally he decided to seek the counsel of an older and wiser mind than his own, and laying the sword across his shoulder, he headed for the kitchen.

Sure enough, Mr. Butler was there, and true to form Bert managed to arrive just as the kettle began to whistle. "Hello Bert. How are you?"

"Right now not so good. Miss Fisher asked me to put this in the parlor, said it is an heirloom, but she didn't tell me where to put it. I've spent the last two hours trying to think of a place to hang it, and I've had no luck."

"Let's have some tea and biscuits. Maybe we can find a solution." The butler was a gentle soul and he didn't want to offend Bert, but he could not imagine Miss Fisher wanted that sword, heirloom though it may be, in her beautiful parlor. The younger man must have misunderstood what she told him, but how to resolve this without offending him might be tricky. Despite his rough looks he was, in his way sensitive.

"That's a good cuppa, thanks." By now Bert was on his third cup of tea and had consumed six biscuits, but he had been doing some pretty hard thinking and needed fuel.

After pouring Bert yet another cup, Mr. Butler excused himself, and the red ragger nodded absent mindedly as he wrestled with his problem. He had been right; it was the Hispano returning, so he hurried down the path to intercept his mistress. He quickly filled her in on Bert's dilemma, and Miss Fisher had all she could do to keep herself from laughing out loud.

"Oh, Mr. B. I just meant for him to lean it against a wall or something. Aunt P is stopping by later to pick it up. Thank you for your quick thinking" With a brisk nod, the butler returned to the kitchen.

In a matter of moments Phryne ran into the house, "Bert, Bert, are you still here?" She made show of looking for him in the parlor. She ran to the kitchen and opened the door, "Mr. B have you seen Bert? Oh there you are. Bert, please tell me you haven't done anything with the sword."

"No, Miss," he gestured to the pantry door where it leaned against the wall. "Miss I tried to find the right spot for the sword, but I just couldn't make up my mind. Me and Mr. B were just talking about it."

"Yes, indeed we were."

"I'm so glad I caught you before you did; now Aunt P is grumbling and wants the ghastly thing back. I wish she would make up her mind."

"Well, Miss, it's a good thing I didn't hang it on the wall in your parlor, then. 'Would've left a right ugly hole in the wall when you took it down."

"How right you are Bert, and thank you so much for all the trouble you've gone to."

"It's nothing, Miss Fisher, glad I was able to help. If you don't need me for anything else, I'll be off.

"Good-bye Bert, and thank you again."

After several long minutes, Mr. Butler checked that the cab was nowhere to be seen. "That was a close one Miss. Thank you for your help."

"Thank you Mr. B. What did I actually say to him? Oh yes, 'Oh Bert, please put this in the parlor in a place of honor, Aunt P gave it to me saying it was a relic from some ancestor or other who fought in a battle somewhere so I suppose that makes it a family heirloom.' …

"Oh, no."

The sound of their laughter echoed through the empty, thank heaven, house.


End file.
